


Corrin's Side of Things

by Skyril



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates
Genre: Adorable, Cute, F/M, Fire Emblem fanfiction, Fire Emblem fates Jakob and Kamui fanfiction, Love, Love Confessions, Supports, Sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-13
Updated: 2016-07-13
Packaged: 2018-07-23 20:03:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7478013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skyril/pseuds/Skyril
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A story of the supports between Corrin and her butler from her point of view. A sort of scan of supports C-A, with a variation on the S-support.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Corrin's Side of Things

**Author's Note:**

> Heavens above, working on multiple stories simultaneously is obviously a bad idea. xD
> 
> But there's one story I've been working on a lot lately... This especially interesting story [at least in my opinion xD] that I am still keeping secret until I post the first chapter. You see, I've... Changed it and edited it, and added things so many times, so much... I can't even try to describe ~breathes heavily~
> 
> It was going to be relatively short--definitely a oneshot, but then it got pretty long for a oneshot... Then I decided I should stretch out a scene and add a scene and change some things, which meant a couple extra thousand words in one part, while I salvaged what I could from another... then I had that long absence during which I had hardly any time to write... And when I came back and edited it a lot, I suddenly had another idea, a great idea [again, in my opinion] that has stretched it out further still, chopping off a massive chunk which I may or may not be able to use at a later time... So right now, I'm writing this vast new part that's already about... Mm, 4000 words at least, and yet still has a long ways to go, and my mind is filling with ideas... Ah-ha-ha... ~weak laugh~  
> Hey, it's really fun, but this fanfic is taking over my life. What was once a relatively short 1-chapter fic, is now going to be a _at least_ four chapter fic of _at least_ 3000 words each... Which, to put it in perspective, like, this oneshot I'm now posting is... 2,205 words, and, like, that long three-chapter fic entitled "Whatever Lengths Necessary" I posted? Was 7,846 words... ~nods slowly as I lose my sanity to the all-powerful mind-controlling fan-fic monster~  
>  I may or may not finish it, like, soon-ish... But I have a bad habit of not finishing things if I don't at least write practically all of it, leaving only some editing to be done, so I can't promise the first chapter until it's complete.
> 
> Uhhh, something to look forward to? ~hopeful smile~
> 
> In the meantime, I'm posting this little one-shot. Somewhere, at some time, I had at least one request for a fic of the supports from Corrin's POV. So... 
> 
> ~~Forgive me for not remembering who you were, but, um,~~ here you go! ~shoves fic towards ~~mysterious requester~~ DaintyFamiliar!! :3~  
>  I sincerely hope you enjoy reading this because I thoroughly enjoyed writing it!
> 
> P.S. Forgive me for this rant-y note :L  
> ________________________________________________________________

Corrin couldn’t possibly tell you the exact moment she fell in love with Jakob. It was all a jumble in her mind, the years of friendship, of book club meetings, of birthdays, and laughter, and bows, and that quiet, “Of course, my Lady,” from his lips…

For the longest while, she tried to make him call her by her name. Honestly, she couldn’t count how many times she asked him or corrected or commanded him to, but every time he turned her down with a crooked smile, and a “I couldn’t possibly, my Lady…” 

And somehow… at some point... she grew to love the sound of her title on his tongue. The way he spoke it… like no one else, like—like in his dreams maybe she really was _his_ Lady.

At least… That’s how her ears perceived it. That’s how she liked to _think_ the words were spoken… But she was afraid that her heart somehow changed them before they reached her mind. 

He was… He was loyal beyond a doubt, but that didn’t mean he felt more for her than—than respect and admiration. _Love_ on the other hand… That he could actually return her feelings was a question she was never certain of. Often, she lay in bed at night after a long day of pain and bloodshed when all that she could do to help her comrades was done, and she was so tired she could hardly keep her mind focused without drifting into dreams, and she wondered, _does he love me?_

The looks she thought she sometimes caught… The smile she thought she sometimes saw… His complete and undying devotion to her… Were these signs? Could they be hope? When he brushed her hair, and she stared into his eyes in the reflection of her mirror, she believed— sometimes she truly believed she saw something there, something _more_. So many times when she saw his look, she opened her mouth to speak the words… Only to have doubt strangle her throat. Her jaw would snap shut, her eyes dart away, and a blush warm her face and ears as she struggled to remain calm with his hands stroking her hair, brushing across her neck…

_What would he say? How would he react if he knew the truth?_ She felt like a double-sided coin, half of her certain he would respond with similar words, half of her certain he would not, and from day to day, she was hardly more sure of one side than the other.

***

After nights upon nights of deliberation, she decided something: The only possible way to have a chance of perceiving how he might feel towards her was to spend more time with him… And what better way to do that than to make him teach her something—something she could learn to do for him?

It wasn’t easy convincing him to show her how to make tea… And his words of loyalty and devotion made her heart race, her head spin… She couldn’t remember a time in all her life it was harder to maintain an appearance of calm, of… of… indifference…

She wasn’t sure how she had managed it, but in the end, she received his promise of teaching her and escaped soon afterwards to her bedroom where she melted into the floor and lay there with a desperately hopeful expression on her face… 

It was a while before the shaking wore off and she was calm enough to leave her chambers again. If people noticed how cheerful she was once she did, they didn’t comment. And if her eyes frequently sought out Jakob, always in the background, watching over her or helping her if help was needed, nobody seemed to notice.

***

What followed was Jakob spending time with her, a teapot nearby, in every free hour.

Apparently, she was inept at tea-making because no matter how he showed her, she always managed to get something wrong.

Jakob was careful and meticulous in how he taught and once or twice even asked her permission to cover her hands with his and guide her through the movements of grinding a particular kind of tea leaves. She agreed only too quickly, and just as she knew it would, her skin ignited at his touch. The fire from his hands burned all the way to her head until she was warm and dizzy. Even so, she couldn’t help glancing at him every other second as he directed her. He was so close, _so_ very close, and when he glanced at her and seemed to notice the exact same thing, he froze for just a moment too long before releasing her and turning around and stuttering something about tea leaves.

But she didn’t hear. A thrill was pulsing through her, and nothing in the world matted but the look in his eyes a moment before.

She couldn’t believe what she did next, intentionally ruining the tea leaves so he might show her again, but she needed him, wanted him close to her. She felt like Camilla, using such a ploy, but before she could change her mind it was done. “Oh, Jakob, I’ve done it again,” she sighed. “I’m sorry… I feel like I’m on the verge of getting it… Maybe if you just guided my hands once more, I can get it.”

“Ah…” He hesitated only a second. “If my Lady wishes it…”

As somberly as she could, she nodded. “Please.”

He went to take her hands again, but Corrin stopped him, “Oh, but not like that. Wrap your arms around me.” She blushed as soon the words left her mouth, but it was too late to change them.

“I-I beg your pardon?” he stammered.

“Put your arms around me and look over my shoulder. You’ll… be able to see what I’m seeing that way.”

“R-Right,” he looked a little uncertain but stepped around her nonetheless. A hush of anticipation arose… And then his hands slid down her arms, his body pressed against hers, his breath warmed her ear, and all his previous hesitation disappeared. Her skin was on fire, but he guided her with soft words and gentle touch, not appearing to notice the trembling in her limbs or the high pitch of her voice.

***

What Corrin couldn’t understand, and what hurt more sharply than anything, was Jakob… _avoiding_ her…

Ever since he had confessed to adding water and sugar to her bitter tea, ever since she told him she needed him, ever since they agreed to stay together forever—a promise that had made her heart soar—she had barely seen him. More than once she caught only his tail end as he turned a corner or exited a building. When they _were_ together, when they _had_ to be together for one reason or another, he barely spoke to her, but, rather, seemed to watch her with something strange in his eyes… Something like regret.

She didn’t understand what had happened. She rifled through her memories to find what she may have done wrong. How might she have offended him? Why was her presence suddenly so unwanted? She didn’t know, and her heart broke a little every time she saw him disappear. All she knew was that he continued to evade her, and she, to lose whatever hope she had gained.

So when she saw him a few days later in the kitchen, alone and washing some dishes, staring mindlessly at the soap suds on his hands, she decided to approach him. Swallowing, she gathered her courage and stepped towards him. Plastering a pleasant expression on her face, she spoke his name and asked him to show her how to make a particular kind of tea. 

He glanced at her, surprised to see her there, then turned again, drying his hands on a small towel and answering, “Certainly, my Lady…”

His voice held a caution, a hesitancy that wasn’t there before, and Corrin’s smile fell. “Are you… quite alright, Jakob?”

“Me?” His eyes turned to hers, then flickered away again, as if he couldn’t bear to look at her. “I’m perfectly fine.”

“Well then—? That is… Have I, perhaps… done something to offend you?”

“Offend me! You?” He froze, startled by her question, his knuckles white on the handle of the teapot. “Certainly not, Lady Corrin. Believe me, that is not—You could— You could never offend me.” He set the pot down heavily, staring at it like he had never seen such a contraption before.

She moved a little closer to him. “If that’s true, then… Jakob, I couldn’t help but notice that you… You seem to have been avoiding me.” He shut his eyes as if in pain, and Corrin beseeched him, “Am I mistaken?”

“No… No, you are not mistaken. I apologize, my Lady. I did not mean to cause worry…”

“If… If I have not offended you, then… May I ask why?”

He let out a breath, tired and remorseful. “It is because there is something I must tell you that I… do not wish to say.” He glanced at her, fighting to appear impassive and resolute. “I can no longer serve as your butler.”

It took a moment for the words to sink in. At first she wanted to laugh, sure he was making some kind of joke, but the sadness in his eyes… the strange crook of his eyebrows… He meant it. He really meant it.

The blood drained from her head. The world tilted under her feet, and it was all she could do to raise one hand to her forehead and clutch at the counter with the other. All she could think was he knew. Somehow, he _knew_ she was in love with him, and he did not return her feelings.

“I am… _deeply_ sorry,” he murmured, “but I… I see no other choice.” 

Corrin just barely heard his words over the ringing in her ears, but when they pierced her mind, she looked up and grasped his forearms, tears in her eyes, and pleaded, “No. No, Jakob, please don’t say that! You don’t have to go. I-I need you.”

He looked at her with dismay, and his voice cracked when he spoke, “M-My Lady… You don’t understand…”

“Don’t I?” 

He looked away, “My Lady, I… I am in love with you.”

For the second time in as many minutes, Corrin couldn’t believe her ears. She stared at him, her grip on his arms tightening until she knew it must be painful, but she couldn’t think. She couldn’t speak, and she didn’t know whether she was laughing or sobbing. He watched her with confusion, with anxiety, but before she could manage words, she entwined her arms around his chest and laid her head on his shoulder and shook.

“Jakob… Oh, Jakob,” she babbled. “You don’t even know, do you?” She turned her face into his neck and pressed her lips against his skin. Before she could do so a second time, Jakob’s hands moved to her shoulders, and he pushed her back so he could look at her, look into her face, her eyes, and see what her tongue was too numb to speak. He stared aghast at the love clearly displayed in the expression she wore.

And then his mouth was on hers, hungry and desperate. 

The tears from her eyes mingled in the kiss, making something so sweet suddenly savory as well, and she was laughing, moaning, clutching onto his vest as she steadied herself with the counter she was pushed against. She was giddy, delirious, joy bubbling up inside her so forcibly she could hardly keep the grin from spreading across her lips.

Delight and ecstasy. Her deepest, longest, heartfelt wish was _real!_ He loved her. Jakob loved her. The world was somehow beautiful again.

His arms were wrapped around her so completely that she wasn’t sure where he ended and she began. With his lips moving on hers, she didn’t even mind. In fact, she would be perfectly happy to stay so entangled forever.

Unfortunately, somehow in their desperate connection, a glass got knocked aside. There was a sound of wobbling followed by a crash as it struck the floor, and Corrin yelped with surprise. Before her drunken mind could process what had happened, Jakob shifted and lifted her into his arms. She grabbed hold of him, yelping again in surprise.

“I’m moving you safely away from the glass,” he explained, and she stared at him. She simply couldn’t contain the laugh that bubbled up. Of course he was. Of course he was thinking of her. He always was. She wound her arms around his neck and leaned her head on his chest, and murmured, “Oh, Jakob, I love you.”

He stopped mid-step, stumbled, slightly off balance. Froze. Stared sightlessly in front of him, eyes wide. Then he looked at her, slowly, searchingly, whispering, “Say it again.”

Corrin, smiling wide, totally happy, kissed his jaw once, twice, and told him, “I love you, Jakob.”

She looked at him again, watched his expression change from agitation and disbelief to stunned happiness, to ecstasy. His eyes shone when he spoke the words, _Marry me._

And Corrin couldn’t say _Yes!_ fast enough.

 

 


End file.
